


Bigger in Bankai

by junko



Category: Bleach
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In fulfillment of a request on the <a href="bleachkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/">Bleach Kink Meme</a> for gen fic of a vice-captain drinking party: "Fluffy Shinigami friendships!!! Rangiku invites all the vice-captains to a drinking party and Rukia has a little too much...and ends up rambling about Ichigo's "attributes." Bonus for drunk vice-captains complaining about their captains :)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bigger in Bankai

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't manage much complaining, and there is as much implied RenRuki as there is IchiRuki, for which I apologize. Ships pass in the night they do.... 
> 
> This request was also fulfilled by our own chellerific with "Loose Lips: <http://archiveofourown.org/works/908047>. Much hilarity. Check it out as well.
> 
> Also as a note of reference, mine takes place just after Rukia's promotion to lieutenant of the 13th, during the timeskip after the defeat of Aizen.

A party for all the vice-captains…. Rukia really hated these sorts of things and had been thinking about feigning illness, but Renji was at the door, looming over her. “You don’t get out enough,” he growled. “Especially since….”

Especially since Ichigo couldn’t see her any longer. 

It was getting sad, sneaking through the Kuchiki senkaimon and creeping into his bedroom, watching him sleep. It was getting seriously awkward, too, especially since Rukia was pretty sure Karin could see her these days, and that doofy dad of theirs was terrible at pretending he couldn’t. Yeah, the sorrowful, pitying look in his eyes really did her in last time. There was something seriously wrong when Isshin Kurosaki thought you were pathetic.

“Okay,” she said finally, pasting on a smile. “I guess it will be fun.”

#

Rukia made them stop for a gift on the way. Renji, of course, complained the whole time. 

“It’s a stupid tradition,” he said, rummaging through the various trinkets in the shop, looking long and hard at the price tag on a keychain of a gray cat. “It’s not like the Tenth Division mess hall is Matsumoto’s house. Jeez, would you look at these prices? They must think we’re made outta ken.”

The shopkeeper frowned at them from where he stood behind the counter. 

“How about we both go in on a bottle or two of some of the good stuff from an akachōchin?” Renji asked, setting the trinket back on the rack with a sigh. 

“Sure,” Rukia smiled, but as he headed out, she made sure to grab the cat keychain and pay for it herself quickly, without Renji noticing. She slid it into her pocket and decided she’d make sure to let Matsumoto know it was from Renji. Maybe she could find a way to slip it over the bottle’s neck or something.

Renji gave her a frown to let her know he knew something was up, even if he wasn’t sure what. She just gave him her best ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’ smile. He shook her head at her fondly.

“I hear everyone is coming,” he noted as they headed down the bustling streets of the Seireitei. As the sun started to set, vendors began to shutter up their shops. Adults shook out rugs; children swept the entrances. A few people nodded politely as she and Renji passed, several even dipped their heads at Rukia, in respect for a passing Kuchiki she assumed. Such obsequiousness was an honor she never quite felt worthy of, but she tried not to blush or seem ungrateful. 

The neighborhood around the Tenth Division was quiet and sedate. A few lanterns were lit here and there, but even the red-lantern tavern they found was filled with the murmured conversation of respectable tradesmen out for an evening pint with family and friends. As Renji waded through the crowd with his ruby red topknot and tattoos, a number of heads turned to watch him warily. Her presence beside him seemed to quell fears, however, and the barkeep seemed pleased enough to serve them. “Some kind of party, eh?” the bartender asked as they divided the bill between them, Renji fishing out coins from the depths of his hakama pockets. The barkeep’s meaty arm rested on the polished wood as she waited, “A bunch of you shinigami been in asking after the same.”

“Oh yeah?” Renji said, finally placing the last of his share on the table. “That’s a good sign. Maybe we won’t run out of beer.”

The barkeep laughed, “Not given the order the lieutenant put in! She’s paid my rent for a month, bless her heart.”

Rukia smiled at Renji’s happy, almost giddy look, but dread settled in her stomach. The last thing she wanted was a wild party. Captain Ukitake had a book club on Friday nights. She could be having tea and pleasant conversation with people she saw every week. Did she even like all the vice-captains? 

“C’mon,” Renji said, grabbing the bottles. “Matsumoto’s parties are always awesome.”

 

#

At least they weren’t the first to arrive. Unfortunately, the only other two vice-captains there were Chojiro Sasakibe and Marechiyo Ōmaeda. Ōmaeda leaped up from where he’d been sitting on the floor ostensibly untangling a string of tiny electrical lights, but he seemed to have mostly wrapped himself up in it. Fortunately, that meant when he tried to give Rukia a flying hug, he tripped over the cords and fell flat on his face. Trying to make the best of it, he bellowed, “Kuchiki! Always good to see a fellow noble!”

Renji stepped over him, and said, “Heya, Ōmaeda, always good to see a fellow moron.”

Sasakibe, who leaned his long, lanky form against the threshold, just shook his silver-haired head sadly and went back to sipping his bowl of sake, under which he held a saucer, as though it were a cup of tea.

Renji handed over the bottles to Matsumoto, who seemed extremely grateful to see them both. “Renji!” she squealed, and threw herself into a very surprised-looking Renji’s arms. In a second, Rukia found her face pressed into the deep valley of Matsumoto’s breasts. She thought she might suffocate there, but Matsumoto released her with an equally exuberant, “Rukia! Yay! So glad you both could come!”

Leaning in Renji said, “Hisagi will be here in a second.”

“Great!” Matsumoto clapped and went over toward the door expectantly, but she had to stop to help Ōmaeda get untangled since he was blocking the entrance.

When Shūhei Hisagi made an appearance just as predicted, Rukia leaned her shoulder up against Renji, “How did you know?”

Pulling out the cork, Renji handed her a beer and grabbed one for himself. Using his teeth to open it, he spit the cork to the side and said, “Saw Shuu crouched on a roof just outside the barrack’s gate. I’d betcha anything the poor idiot’s been sitting out there a half hour, working out how not to be the first guy in and what he’s going to say to his ‘Ms. Rangiku.’ Thousand ken says he gets a nosebleed before the night’s out.”

“Be nice!” Rukia admonished, even though she laughed a little into her sleeve.

Renji pointed with the tip of his beer bottle. “Jeez, look at him. I can’t stand it; I got to go be a wingman. He’s already blushing up a storm.”

With that Renji leaped into action, taking Hisagi under his arm and making easy jokes with Matsumoto. Rukia let out a little sigh, happy to sit back and sip her beer and watch the show unfolding. 

The door opened again and in came Izuru Kira and Momo Hinamori came in. Renji greeted his old Academy friends warmly and directed them over to where Rukia stood by the table full of drinks. Rukia waved, wondering how she got the job of drink hostess, but she shrugged, handing drinks over as soon as Kira and Momo approached. 

Momo smiled sweetly and said, “Congratulations, by the way, on your lieutenancy. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your party.”

Kira nodded. “Have you heard? We’re finally getting captains.”

“Really?” Rukia was curious and shot a look over at Renji, wondering if he finally stood for the captaincy test. “Who?”

Taking a long pull on his beer, Kira looked… well, more miserable than usual. “Some guys I’ve never heard of: Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi for me and Shinji Hirako for her.”

“Oh, yes, Shinji I know for sure,” Rukia nodded, “They’re some of Ichigo’s friends, the ones that call themselves the Visored. They were at the battle against….” Rukia trailed off with a nervous look at Momo. “Uh, I mean the Battle for the Fake Karakura Town.”

Momo’s face crumpled and she slammed back some beer. Kira shifted a bit closer, “Friends of Ichigo’s! Oh, good! What do you know about Ōtoribashi?”

“Um,” Rukia chewed her lip, trying to remember who was who. “I’m not sure, I mean I think maybe he’s the one they called ‘Rose’? Or… maybe he’s the guy who goes by ‘Love’?” Rukia was forced to shake her head in defeat. “I’m sorry, Kira, I didn’t really get to know any of them very well because they trained in secret… uh, sort of, anyway, I was mostly here with Orihime and… well, oh! Shinji! He’s the one has a tongue piercing and crooked hair and far too many teeth! That, I remember.”

“Sounds… nice…?” Momo sounded very unsure, and then she giggled a little and slugged back another long swallow like a sailor.

“Doomed,” Kira muttered. Slumping back into the table that held all the drinks, he hung his head, “First a kitsune, now a half-Hollow. I hate my life”

At the sound of Renji’s laughter, Rukia looked up to see that the circle around Matsumoto now included sunglasses wearing Tetsumaemon Iba and little pink-haired Yachiru Kusajishi. Yachiru managed to clamber up onto Renji’s shoulder and was trying to make his longer hair stick up in points, like it used to. Even from here, Rukia could hear her pouting about Renji needing ‘Kenny’s old hair gel’ and ‘bells.’

When the door opened again, Nanao Ise took in the crowd with a withering, disapproving glance. Catching Rukia’s eye, however, she gave her a brief nod and headed over to where the three of them stood. With her ever-present clipboard clutched to her chest and glasses, Nanao looked like a stern schoolmarm coming to break up their… well, it was hardly ‘fun’ with moping Kira and Momo, who seemed trying to drink herself into a coma.

“Kuchiki,” Nanao said with a nod, taking the beer Kira offered her. “Congratulations on your promotion. It’s about time that seat was filled properly.”

“Um, thanks…. I guess,” Rukia said, not sure if she’d been complimented or insulted or both.

Nanao started talking to Momo about some agenda item for the Seireitei Women’s Association and Rukia happily tuned out, remembering to smile and nod enough not to be rude. Thanks to interminable Kuchiki clan gatherings, she had a lot of practice.

The party seemed to be in full swing. At some point Ōmaeda had freed himself and finished stringing up the electric lights along the rafters. They glittered like stars on the polished pine beams of the mess hall’s sloped roof. Most of the tables had been pushed along the walls, and people congregated in small clots around the large room.

The weather was warm enough that a few of the shoji screens were open to the evening air and a pleasant view of the Tenth Division’s practice yard.

Rukia smiled to herself and drank her beer. Maybe Renji was right; she shouldn’t spend so much time brooding. But… she missed Ichigo so much. It broke her heart to think she might have to wait a lifetime to see him again. Would he even remember her once his soul crossed over? There was no doubt he’d go to Academy and become a shinigami, but who would he be in seventy-five or more years? Would he still have that same intensity in those chestnut brown eyes? And, how much would it hurt if those eyes skipped over her, without even a glimmer recognition…?

“Are you alright, Rukia?” Kira asked, his hand a tentative touch on her shoulder.

She pulled out a fake smile, ready to lie to him, like she had to Captain Ukitake and everyone else who asked, when the door flew open with a bang. In stumbled Isane Kotetsu and a battered looking Nemu Kurotsuchi. 

In a flash, Rukia helped Isane lower Nemu to the tatami. Renji was there in a second. “Holy shit! What happened?” he asked, his hand going to Zabimaru and his eye to the door searching for assailants. He was already directing Iba and Hisagi to scout in either direction of the street outside.

Nemu’s face was swollen and bruised. She looked… empty, like usual, but Rukia thought she saw a slight tremor in her shoulder as Nemu intoned, “It’s my fault. I wanted to come even though Mayuri-sama forbade me.”

Rukia and Isane exchanged a look. Isane carefully held out her hands, “Can I heal you?”

Nemu nodded, though she looked guilty for agreeing.

Above them, Renji snarled, “Fucking freak. I don’t know how you can put up with him. I still have nightmares.”

“Of what?” Rukia asked.

“Of the goddamn dissection of Yami. Don’t forget,” Renji said, “I was stuck for-fucking-ever in Hueco Mundo with that creep. Did you know that giant eyeballs make a disgusting sound when you pop them? It still echoes in my head. Oh, yeah, and lenses are actually hard little--well, giant--bowl-like things? I guess it went on for days, but could only take about a minute of it before I was hanging on to Taicho’s back, losing my lunch and trying not to spatter his socks.”

“You’re making that up,” Rukia said. “Nii-sama let you touch him? Where was I?”

“Healing,” Isane said. “I was there, too, remember.”

“Mayuri-sama was very happy that day,” Nemu said with a nod and a near-blissful expression on her battered face.

Everyone stared at her in utter horror.

“Okay,” Matsumoto trilled cheerfully, “Who wants more beer?”

#

Somehow, a half-hour later, every single lieutenant in the Gotei Thirteen sat in a circle on the floor with a pile of empty bottles in the middle. Ōmaeda was drunk enough that he was swaying back and forth, singing something under his breath and smiling at everyone. Kira, who sat next to Ōmaeda, leaned an elbow on the big guy’s shoulder and joined in every once and a while. 

Nanao was flopped onto her back, her head resting in a very startled and uncomfortable looking Shūhei Hisagi. She kept lifting a sloppy arm and pointing to his nose and slurring, “You’re cute.” Every once and a while, she’d interject, “But, not very robust. You need to eat more, get a little hair on your chest.” Adjusting her glasses she smiled, “But, you do have a very trim chest.”

Isane, of all people, sat on the other side of Hisagi blushing furiously and nodding in agreement.

Renji, meanwhile, seemed to have his arm around Iba and they were deep in some argument about something that happened at the Eleventh when they were both still stationed there. Yachiru kept trying to stick her face between them to interject, “Did not! Did not!”

Nemu, meanwhile, seemed to have found someone new to dote on and was demurely pouring sake for Sasakibe. 

Next to Rukia, Matsumoto pouted from the lack of male attention. She sighed, “Men, eh?”

“Yes,” Rukia agreed half-heartedly and somewhat drunkenly, “I like them.”

Matsumoto cooed, “Oh, do tell! You and Renji, maybe? You know, I always thought you’d make a cute couple… though, really, he’s more my size. I mean, no offense, but you’re tiny.”

Renji glanced over at the sound of his name, but Rukia shook her head and said, “That ship kind of sailed away before you know, I knew it was a shippy-thing… and, anyway,” she smiled messily, “A much bigger ship came to my rescue.”

“Bigger?” Renji gruffed.

“Oh yeah,” Rukia grinned. “Much. I mean, just look at his… sword.” She made a ‘this big’ gesture with her hands, and nodded lasciviously, “Bigger. Way bigger.”

“You know,” Matsumoto agreed. “I always like my guy’s swords to be big, too.”

“Hello,” Renji said, “My Zabimaru is big… and versatile.”

“I don’t think big should be a thing,” Iba groused. 

“Just be glad yours isn’t named ‘penitent one’ and known for bowing heads,” Kira said with a depressed sigh aimed at his crotch. “Heavy and bent over. There’s a metaphor you don’t want.” 

“At least you use yours,” Renji said. “Shūhei over there doesn’t like to pull his out.”

“Hello, ‘call out,’ and I really don’t want to be part of this discussion, okay?” Shūhei said.

“Mine is huge,” Ōmaeda announced, “It has a giant ball.”

“Gross,” half the crowd said simultaneously.

Everyone looked at the last remaining man, Sasakibe who shrugged. “I prefer to be a man of mystery.”

Momo’s girlish voice piped up, “Aizen-taicho’s was so pretty.” She sighed. “I wonder if I can write to him while he’s in Shugo?”

Every head turned to stare at Momo. After several long moments, Kira just said, “Just. Don’t, Momo. Such a bad idea.”

Rukia had been listening to this whole thing with half an ear. Her mind still elsewhere, she happily blurted, “You know what’s never a bad idea? Sex and strawberries.”

“That’s it!” Renji roared leaping to his feet. “TMI, Rukia. T. M. I.”

“You’re just jealous,” Rukia slurred, “’Cuz his sword is bigger. And he smells nice. Like fresh sheets. Or, maybe that’s just the linen closet I sleep in, but I’m pretty sure he smells a little like Frebreeze.” 

“Okay, definitely, drunk,” Renji said. “Who’s taking her home? Because I’m done!”

Rukia was surprised to see Hisagi’s hand shoot up. A look around the room make Rukia realize that most of the lieutenants, including a few of the women, were totally into her. She blushed.

“Argh! I didn’t mean like that!” Renji said, “Jeez, how much competition do I have anyway?”

“A lot, Renji,” Matsumoto’s giggled, bringing her hand down and wrapping it around Rukia. “She can stay here the night, can’t you? We’ll say up all night and talk about boys! We can have a pillow fight or maybe I’ll take a bath and naked-wrestle you!”

“Uh,” Rukia said, prying out of Matsumoto’s grip. “Orihime told me about your idea of ‘girl bonding.’”

“Sounds fun, right?” Matsumoto said with a grin.

“Well, kind of, honestly, but… I’m seriously into Ichigo. I mean, even if I have to wait for him.”

Renji, who’d stood up like he was really intending to leave, sat back down hard. He gave her a long look. As drunk as she was she couldn’t read it, but it reminded her of someone… Isshin. Renji was giving her the same pitying look. She was about to get mad or maybe just run away, but Renji nodded and gave her a little rueful smile, “You won’t have to wait long. Not if I know that kid. He’ll find some way to get back to you in no time.”

Rukia’s heart warmed. That’s what she believed too.

“But,” Renji said, his grin wolfish, “You do remember that my sword gets way bigger in bankai and his shrinks.”

“Oh, Renji!” Rukia blushed.

“Just sayin’”


End file.
